What It Means To Be Free
by ADustlandFairytale
Summary: Hermione and Draco begin their sixth year just as Fate had planned. But then, Fate changed her plans. (Author note: I began this a long time ago and am revising it).


_Diagon Alley_

Hermione entered Madam Malkin's with Harry and Ron whilst Hagrid stood outside. Ron made a remark that Mrs Weasley was being overly cautious, having Hagrid accompany them like a bodyguard. But all along Diagon Alley, people walked in tight groups of at least three. Heads faced down and feet shuffled quickly; no one seemed to want to spend more time than necessary along the cobbled street.

Madam Malkins was quiet. The three of them moved closer to the centre of the room, not yet noticing the two customers by the mirror.

'...Mother, I am perfectly capable of doing my shopping alone.'

They turned towards the drawling voice, dripping in sarcasm. Hermione pursed her lips; of course, _he _would be here. On a gloomy day such as this, where else would the Malfoys be but fussing about Diagon, bringing more gloom to the public.

He huffed at Madam Malkin as she pinned the hem of his trousers and she grumbled back. Hermione liked to think she'd accidentally-on-purpose stuck the pin into his calf.

The pale face of Draco Malfoy found her in the mirror's reflection. Silver eyes caught her own through the glass. She saw them darken as he took in her presence, then harden as they noticed Harry and Ron.

'If you're wondering what the smell is, Mother, a Mudblood just walked in,' he said.

She placed her hands on her hips and his eyes followed the movement. Her face showed only annoyance; as if he was a first-year she needed to reprimand for misbehaving. She would not give him the satisfaction of showing anything more than that. To her left, Harry took out his want and she stopped herself from rolling her eyes. When she glanced to her right she saw Ron in a similar stance, pointing his wand at Malfoy. Her eyes inevitably rolled.

'Honestly don't, it's so not worth it…' she said. Sweet, loyal, stupid boys.

'Who blackened your eye, Granger? I want to send them flowers.' Malfoy sneered.

Hermione didn't tend to spare more thought on Draco Malfoy than was necessary. He was a constant thorn in her side, a pain in her arse and a bully to her and her friends. She hated everything he stood for; blood purity, a superiority complex, privilege and disdain for things like courage and kindness. The things she stood for. Yet, she did not hate him. She didn't hate him the first time he'd called her a Mudblood. She didn't hate him when he'd put Buckbeak's life in danger (though that was the closest she'd gotten to pure hatred) nor when he'd cursed her teeth to grow. She didn't hate him for being part of the inquisitorial squad and for being the son of a death eater; a son who played right into daddy's ideals.

No, Hermione found him loathsome and annoying and foul, but above all, she pitied him. Too much so to hate him.

She conveyed this all in one look and, though he tried to mask his face, she knew he'd understood.

_Your words are empty, Malfoy_, her look said. _I've fought monsters far scarier than you_.

Harry and Narcissa had words. Harry threw the phrase 'death eater' and Madam Malkin shook her head in fear. Hermione noted her distress and tugged on Harry's sleeve, but he and Narcissa kept arguing.

'I expect Potter will be reunited with Sirius before I am reunited with Lucius' Narcissa said.

Hermione stopped Harry from doing something truly stupid. Malfoy fussed with Madam Malkin some more before shoving her away and declaring he wanted to go elsewhere. She faced Narcissa and lifted her chin.

'Now I know the kind of scum that shops here...we'll do better at Twilfitt and Tattings' Narcissa drawled, eyeing Hermione up and down. Hermione clenched her jaw, imagining pummeling Narcissa's beautiful face and spitting on her as she fell. The Malfoys always led to her more violent thoughts.

A.D.F

Draco watched as Granger challenge his mother's stare with her own look of disdain. She refused to back down, her face matching Narcissa's contempt. Stupid girl, always forgetting where society placed her. He walked out of the shop with his mother, making sure to shove into the Weasley oaf on his way. The lank stumbled and tried to grab at his collar but Granger stopped him.

'Potter and his friends will get what's coming to them, Draco,' his mum murmured. He pretended not to hear the doubt and fear in her voice. Narcissa Malfoy was never afraid.

'I know mother.'

'You must stay vigilant sweetheart. You must remain a step ahead' she grabbed hold of his arm and he shoved it off.

'I _know_ mother. I will complete the task. The tasks … for him. Potter will get his, so will Granger and Weasley. The Dark Lord will be pleased and we will be rewarded' he said, trying to convince himself more than anyone else. He would rebuild the Malfoy name. He had to. The image of Granger on her knees, begging for mercy at his feet formed in his mind before he could stop it. She would look up at him, clutch onto his trousers and plead. It caused his stomach to coil with pleasure and he forced himself out of the fantasy.

They made their way to Borgin and Burkes. Draco stood in one corner, facing his great challenge of the next school year. That and ... and the other thing. The one he tried not to dwell on. He'd found it was best to let it slip away from his mind; he'd think about it closer to the time. Until then, he would focus on the strange-looking cabinet he'd have to fix. He studied it closely before turning towards Borgin.

'You definitely know how to fix it?'

'Possibly' replied Borgin. Draco raised one perfect eyebrow.

'I'll need to see it. Why don't you bring it into the shop' Borgin continued. Draco rolled his eyes in clear annoyance. He had no time for this.

'I can't' he drawled, 'you'll need to tell me how to do it.' He watched Borgin's neck break into a sweat as he licked his lips nervously.

'Well, it will be a very difficult job if I can't see it. Perhaps impossible.' _Well, that just won't do._

'No? Perhaps this will make you more confident' He raised his sleeve and watched Borgin pale at the sight of his left arm. Why not push him a little more?

'Tell anyone and there will be retribution. Do you know Fenrir Greyback? He's a family friend; he'll be checking in to make sure you're giving the problem your full attention' Draco did not necessarily enjoy making threats, but he had a mission to see through.

'There will be no need for-'

'I'll decide that. Don't forget to keep _that_ one safe, I'll need it' he pointed to the ugly necklace.

'Perhaps you'd like to take it now?' asked Borgin.

Draco's patience was wearing thin.

'Obviously not now, how would I look carrying that down the street? Just don't sell it.'

With a few more biting words about the necklace and a bow from Borgin, Draco walked out of the shop. Everything was set for this next year. He had all of the equipment, he just needed to fix the cabinet and then … no, he wouldn't think about it yet. He'd been _chosen _for this. He could do this. The Dark Lord had trusted him. Though he wouldn't admit it, he couldn't help but feel the nauseous sensation each time he had to think about doing it. He found the old headmaster as annoying as the next wizard, but murder? It seemed cold.

He shook his head before he could dwell on it any longer. It was life. He had to accept it. This was his life now.

A.D.F

_The Burrow_

Hermione really was starting to get a headache. Harry had been trying to convince her and Ron that Malfoy was now a Death Eater. Ron laughed and told him he was mental, resulting in Harry getting more frustrated and launching into a long and well thought out speech about why Malfoy was most definitely a Death Eater. Personally, Hermione found it hard to believe. Malfoy was a sixteen-year-old boy; she highly doubted Voldemort would want an inexperienced teenager in his ranks. Still, she gave up arguing her case, especially since Fleur had just walked in and that was sure to increase the ache in her head.

' 'Ermionee, 'ave you seen Molly? I 'ave been theenking of whezzer to dress ze bridesmaids 'een blue or gold...' she continued her rambling.

Of course, the wedding was next summer and it seemed it was all Fleur could talk about. Hermione didn't mind too much, but she needed a break from the many discussions on dresses and cakes, every now and then … or right then.

They rode in the ministry cars to King's Cross station the following morning. She found it strange to be so guarded, but it was worse for Harry; this went against every wish he had to just be a normal kid. Instead, he had an army or Aurors seeing him off to school.

The train journey passed by in a blur. Harry continued his conspiracies about Malfoy until she and Ron got up to attend the prefects' meeting. As they left their carriage, she noticed him glancing at Ginny as the light streamed through the window and bounced off her hair. Ah … she had suspected as much.

'Why're you smiling 'Mione?' Ron asked, his mouth chewing on the remains of his chocolate frog.

'Ronald, will you stop talking and eating at the same time?' she demanded, avoiding the question. It would be much more fun for him to realize for himself.

A.D.F

_The Hogwarts Express_

Draco took a deep breath. He'd just dismissed Pansy and her wandering hands; this needed to be done out of the public eye. Potter was in here somewhere … His eyes roamed the compartment when he noticed another flash of white. He carefully withdrew his wand and ...

'_Petrificus Totalus!'_ He heard Potter's body topple. Removing the cloak, he pointed his wand at Potter's face.

'I thought so. I heard Goyle's trunk hit you. That was you blocking the door when Zabini came back in I suppose?' He smirked at the great Harry Potter, now completely powerless beneath him. He felt the adrenaline course through him as he stamped on his enemy's face.

'That's for my father.' Hatred surged through his veins.

The satisfaction he'd felt at another person's pain would haunt him, much later on, but at that moment, he'd never been more glad to bring pain to the boy he loathed. Picking the invisibility cloak up, he threw it over Potter's body.

'They won't find you until the train's back in London … so I guess I'll see you around Potter … or not.' He quickly exited the compartment, hoping Potter would be left on the train. If he wasn't at school, perhaps Draco's task would be easier.

As he walked into the great hall he instantly searched the Gryffindor table out of habit. Now that Potter was missing he was curious as to what the reaction would be. Longbottom was looking confused as usual; Finnigan and Thomas were messing around but occasionally looking towards the entrance, slightly worried. The Weaslette was just staring at the door, hands clenched. Weasley himself was switching between eating frantically and glancing at the entrance, whilst Granger was switching between watching the door and watching Weasley eating savagely, mildly disgusted. Good, it was about time she realised what a swine he was.

No one suspected him. No one even glanced in his way. He was Malfoy; he always got as he wanted and if he wanted to be invisible, he would be.

A.D.F

_Great Hall_

Where was he? Hermione was worried, as always. Harry was missing, and it was never good when Harry was missing. He could have been hurt, he could have gone to the toilet on the train and maybe it had gone back with him, he could have been captured, he could have run away ... oh Merlin someone could have killed him- and suddenly there he was, clutching his nose and trying to stop the blood flowing, but otherwise intact and safe enough.

'Where've you – blimey, what've you done to your face?' asked Ron. She thanked her stars that he'd managed to get the food out of his mouth long enough to be worried about his best friend.

'Why, what's wrong with it?' answered Harry. Honestly, sometimes she questioned the amount of sanity behind either of them.

'You're covered in blood!' How blind could one get? She pointed her wand towards Harry's nose and cleared the blood.

'Thanks' he whispered. 'How's my nose looking?'

'Normal. Why shouldn't it? Harry, what happened?' she demanded.

'I'll tell you later' he looked around anxiously. Well, that was just unfair!

'But-'

'Not now!' she shut up at that.

It was rare for Harry's voice to go so low and become scarily demanding. She wrinkled her nose in annoyance and heard a guffaw come from the Slytherin table. When she laid her eyes on the culprit, she found it was Malfoy, pointing at them and making movements towards his own nose. Definitely suspicious. Surely, Harry could defend himself against _Malfoy_? But when she looked towards Harry for answers, he was too preoccupied with the very difficult task of glancing at the front, and then Ginny, and then the front, and then Ginny, and then the front, and then Ginny … and so forth. Hermione rolled her eyes; he'd get there one day.

Feeling a pair of eyes on her, she glanced around the room and found Malfoy staring towards their table again. Except for this time, his intense glare was directed right at her. She glared back and he gripped his fork tighter, before mouthing 'Mudblood'. She would have liked to say that after years of listening to him throw that insult at her, she was now completely indifferent. She would have liked to say that it didn't affect her in any way. Unfortunately, that wasn't entirely true. It didn't upset her or make her feel ashamed; she was a muggle-born and proud. It did, however, make her angry. That loathsome snake genuinely had it stuck in his head that he was better than her because he had so-called "pure blood". It was so nonsensical, so ignorant and so against her own beliefs. Greatness was defined by courage, compassion, wit and kindness. Not _blood_ status.

But that was Malfoy and it would always be Malfoy. She felt her rage turn to disappointment - there was no point in getting angry. Still, she was quite annoyed by his glare and it was putting her off her food. She tilted her chin up and gave him her best disapproving look; a look she'd inherited from her mother, known for not taking any shit. It had the desired effect. His eyes narrowed and he looked away. She smirked and turned back to the front of the room, where Dumbledore began his speech.

A.D.F

Fucking Granger. He'd noticed her staring whilst he was recounting the brilliant story of how he hammered his foot down onto Potter's face. She had looked annoyed at first, curious, then disbelieving and then suspicious. Did she think he was incapable of winning against Potter? Did she think Potter would out-match him? He hated that she thought so low of him. He watched her roll her eyes as Potter pathetically fawned over the Weaslette. Then her eyes turned back to him. Good, now her attention was completely his, he could once again crush her spirit.

'Mudblood' he mouthed. She'd been away from him for an entire summer and he'd forgotten how much he loved reminding her of her place. He was aware that his breathing was getting shallower and his hand was gripping his fork tightly so that he looked perhaps a little mad, but he didn't care. He relished in insulting Granger, relished in watching her eyes spark each time he offended her, relished in watching her face grow red, giving her an unnatural glow to her normally ivory complexion. Another reason he hated her; she was too pretty. So pretty it was unrealistic. Her eyes were too gold and her hair was too curly, her mouth too perfectly pink and her face too perfectly symmetrical. Almost like a doll.

He saw the defiance spark in her eyes as he mouthed that word, and he loved that even after all these years it still affected her. Set her teeth on edge. But then her eyes dulled and turned to disappointment instead of anger. He didn't know what to do with that; it wasn't how their silent matches usually went. It made him feel hollow. He'd have to analyse those feelings later, but now all he could do was look away. He grit his teeth, realising she'd won. Merlin, she grated on him. She frustrated him. And, though he would never admit it, she scared him.


End file.
